


How to Say Goodbye

by i_masshiro



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23556214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_masshiro/pseuds/i_masshiro
Summary: This was just the way life was: full of meetings and partings and hello’s and goodbyes. But it was so cruel, he thought, so needlessly cruel.[set after Aizen arc/before Fullbringer arc]
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo
Kudos: 15





	How to Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr on 8/17/16.

Ichigo makes his solo journey back home from school, the cords of his ear buds swaying with each step. He wasn’t listening to anything but he found a strange comfort in pretending that he was. He thought perhaps if he put on a good show that he was all right then one day he’d trick himself into actually believing it. In the meantime, he had his ear buds in while he listened to nothing and the only sound he could make out above his pounding heart was the steady scratch of his shoes against the pavement as he took each heavy step back home.

He knew his friends worried about him. He could see it in their eyes when they looked to him with quiet sympathy as Ishida would run out of class to take care of the latest hollow threat. Their sympathy would only grow when Ichigo would unconsciously head to the rooftop to eat lunch where he used to with _her_ or when he would unwittingly buy pairs of the same food or drink, forgetting that the person he wanted to share it with was no longer with him.

They worried about him, but they shouldn’t. He didn’t need sympathy. He was a big boy now, 17 going on 18, and he knew how to say his goodbyes. Goodbyes were a part of life and with time he’d forget. He’d forget the way the coals of her eyes shone like diamonds as she looked to him in eye-fluttering breathlessness. He’d forget the way the pink of her lips moved to form the syllables of his name – “ _I-chi-go”_ – and how beautiful his name sounded when it was her voice saying it. He’d forget their playful banter, the times their arms would just almost brush as they’d make this same trek back home from school, or the late nights he’d feel her familiar warmth press on his shoulders as they’d dive into the darkness to search for hollows.

Goodbyes were a part of life, he tried to convince himself again as he turned the corner to the familiar street leading to his house. This was just the way life was: full of meetings and partings and hello’s and goodbyes. But it was so cruel, he thought, so needlessly cruel.

“Ichi-nii!” He breaks out of his reverie at the sound of his sisters approaching from the opposite direction with Yuzu running happily towards him and leaving behind Karin, who was content at going at her own pace. The scowl on his face turns into a gentle smile as he approaches them and Yuzu triumphantly waves the bags of groceries in her hands as they both reach the clinic.

“Ichi-nii,” she starts as she stops in front of him, “I’m making something new for dinner so make sure you don’t snack on anything before then!”

“I won’t,” he chuckles softly and Yuzu nods, content with his understanding, before rushing into the house.

“How was school?” He asks as Karin is the next to approach him and she shrugs with a curt “fine” before stopping in her tracks. Her eyes widen in surprise but she’s not looking at him, he realizes, but behind him and he quickly wheels around only to be met with the familiar sight of nothingness.

“A spirit?” He asks as he turns to look back at her and she nods slowly, guilt and sadness growing in the dark orbs of her eyes.

“Yea,” she answers hoarsely, quickly turning on her heel to look away from him, “something like that.”

Chills giggle down his spine and he can’t help the sudden excited skip in his heartbeat.

“Karin, is…it…?”

“I know you’ve been having a hard time,” Karin interrupts suddenly, “and you don’t have to tell us or nothing if you don’t want to but…” She turns to look back at him, her gaze still flitting sadly between him and the emptiness behind him, “but maybe try saying how you feel out loud….maybe…that’ll help.”

She hastily rushes inside the clinic before he can get a word out but he has an inkling of what she means. Slowly, he turns to face the dying sunset as it kisses the horizon and paints its goodbye in broad, pastel strokes of red, pink and orange. He doesn’t see any spirits or hollows before him, only the familiar concrete of the neighbourhood he had grown up in blanketed in sunset hues, but a familiar comfort settles deep inside of him and he wishes that it is her.

He takes in a deep breath and speaks.

“Do you remember Shakespeare?” He starts reminiscing softly as he quietly scans the empty horizon, “I tried showing you his stuff one day but you said you didn’t get it.” He lets out a dry chuckle, his eyes twinkling at the memory, “I probably called you an idiot or a dumb shortie or – I don’t know, something like that, cause _how can you not get Shakespeare_?”

The wind howls in indignation and he chuckles again because he can just imagine her now, her arms crossed haughtily across her chest as she’d angrily make a case for herself and barrage him with insults that would only rile him up more.

“But maybe you were right,” he admits with a shrug as he scuffs the soles of his shoe against the pavement, “maybe I didn’t get Shakespeare either cause, you know, he says parting is such sweet sorrow and I could never understand the sweet part. I mean, what’s so sweet about…saying goodbye?”

He stops because now he was getting too real; he was getting too close. Silence engulfs him and the rests between his every heartbeat and the spaces between his every shuddering breath terrify him. It is in these moments, in these suspended moments of time, that he is reminded of the “ _could’ve been’s_ ”, the “ _should’ve been’s_ ”, and the “ _would’ve been’s_ ”. He is reminded that _this_ is the sorrowful part of goodbye; that now their story was a “the end” rather than a “to be continued”, that they were now a broken coda, an unfinished melody, a song half-sung.

He blinks away the unshed tears and struggles to catch his breath. He must be mad, he reasons, and perhaps he really was.

“Rukia?” He whispers tentatively and he is surprised at how comfortably the syllables of her name roll of his tongue. Even though it had been months and years, the muscles of his mouth remembered her name as if it had only been yesterday. “Rukia,” he tries again, and the wind swirls around him eagerly in response. It kisses his lips, ruffles his hair and fills his lungs with the sweet perfume of spring. He can’t be sure if it’s her, or if she’s even around, but he decides in this moment to be honest and to be true.

“Rukia,” he restarts in a hushed whisper, his grip tightening on the strap of his schoolbag, “just tell me…how do I say goodbye?”

The wind dies in response. It doesn’t answer him but he already knows the truth. Sometimes there’s no rhyme and reason as to why things end. Sometimes things just end and that’s all there is to it. Besides, he already knew that there was only one real way to say goodbye.

It was one heartbreak at a time.

**Author's Note:**

> At the time (and even still) the bleach ending really...hurt me? Like, I actually went through all 5 states of grief and it actually took me surprisingly quite a few months to get over it. Even now I'm salty as a mofo but ichiruki fandom still thriving, still doing our thing so it's all good (but not really cause it still hurts T_T).


End file.
